Hey gang. I wanted to get another installment of the blog up just so I can put it in the “trend” category. The last two could’ve been a mere coincidence, but this one proves I really mean it. What “it” is, I have no idea. In any case, here we are. Before I kick this off, let me take this final opportunity to lobby for your vote in the 2014 Washington City Paper Reader’s Poll. Go ahead and click the big orange button on the right and help keep my ego afloat for another year. Polls close at midnight. If I get this thing done in time, that should give you mere minutes to validate me in this giant parking lot we call life.

As the witching hour approaches, let me tell you of some of my recent exploits. I am 38 years old, but I like to put the emphasis on the 8. As my childhood spins away from me like Sandra Bullock in Gravity, I’m doing my best to stay tethered to it, lest I be permanently grounded in curmudgeonly adulthood. To that end, I joined my buddy Seth and his family at the SkyZone Indoor Trampoline Park for an hour of escape from the confines of Newton and his laws. Here’s something I quickly learned: Bouncing is for the young. They don’t have as far to fall, they haven’t been calcified by time, and they lack the mechanism in their brains that tell them they’re mortal. As I was jumping up and down, I could feel my innards undulating and my spinal column compressing. And I was sweaty. You wouldn’t think some as simple as jumping would tucker you out so much. Not only were there trampolines on the floor, but there were wall trampolines as well. These were tempting. You always imagine yourself being able to pull off moves like Spider-Man, with the agility of a gazelle. I, it turns out, have the agility of a cinder block. I discovered another law of motion: For every action there is an equal and opposite injury. Luckily, the foam pit allowed for a soft landing…

Some crappy news recently in the world of comedy. We lost two giants, Sid Caesar and Harold Ramis. Without Sid Caesar, TV comedy as we know it wouldn’t exist. Sid Caesar pioneered televised comedy and paved the way for the modern day sitcom and shows like SNL. And Harold Ramis was as important to comedy in the movies. Without him we would’ve never had Animal House or Caddyshack or Ghostbusters or Groundhog Day or Groundhog Day or Groundhog Day. If they don’t get their own private In Memoriam segments at the Emmys and Oscars, respectively, it would be a mockery, and not in the good way these guys did it. Sid, Egon, we hardly knew ye…

Again, vote for me, while you still can. I promise to stop bugging you about it. Next time.

Hello neglected readership. Last week was a fluke, this week is a coincidence, and hopefully I’ll turn this into a trend. I want to tell you about the muse for this week’s blog. His name is Quacey Frimpong. At least I think that was his name. It was the name on the placard next to his teller window, so I assume it was him. I’m unsure because it doesn’t sound like a person’s name. It sounds like a style of underground Vietnamese table tennis. Do you train in a dojo on a mountain top to learn the essence of Quacey Frimpong? Does the fate of humanity hang in the balance of a Quacey Frimpong tournament? If so, to all of the players who are Quacey enough to play Frimpong, thank you for your sacrifice so that our way of life may remain untouched by the void of evil that seeks to unseat the champion of Quacey Frimpong.

I will never know the glory that comes with hoisting the Quacey Frimpong Golden Championship Skull.

Speaking of elite athletics, we are in the midst of the Winter Olympics in Sochi. I’ve watched bits and pieces of the games, but I haven’t gone full Quacey Frimpong about it. With the time difference and the constant flow of information, it’s tough to maintain suspense with every result being spoiled hours before broadcast. I do love how we treat every American victory over the Russians like the last five minutes of Rocky IV. It does give new meaning to the term “Cold War,” but Russia is hardly the superpower they used to be, no matter how many bears Vladimir Putin bludgeons with a shark on horseback. One event that has captured the ever-dwindling imagination of Americans is the story of Ice Dancing gold medalists Meryl Davis and Charlie White. The plucky youngsters who have been skating together for 17 years skated into our hearts and caused a lot of internal damage because ice skates are very pointy. They’re very talented but, since the surface of figure skating is inherently shallow, I find myself taking them, or rather her, at face value. What the heck is up with her face?

It’s kinda flat. It looks like she was the love child of the dish running away with the spoon. It’s very distracting. Every time I see her skate, this is what runs through my head…

Yes, I realize I’m a horrible person. Please to encourage me by voting for me in the 2014 Washington City Paper Reader’s Poll! It’s kinda like my Sochi, except without the stray dogs, the athletic achievement, or shoddy infrastructure. I think we can all agree that I deserve another term as Best Comedian in DC. Last year’s reign was cruel, but fair. Don’t do it for me. Do it for Quacey Frimpong.

Hello to my abandoned readers. My blogging muscles have atrophied from overuse of Twitter. All of my pithy blurbs are available to you on the right-hand side of the blog, by the way. I’m not even sure if I have much else to say, but I felt the need to put a fresh post on here. Let me update you on what’s happened in my world since last you strained your eyes and feigned interest…

I got married. That was pretty big. As I type this, my lovely wife is looking over the mass of pictures of the blessed event. We’re coming up on six months, so it’s about time we get albums made. Here’s one of the better ones…

Aren’t we adorable? Anyway, I’ll stop boring you with that so I can bore you with this: I ended up winning the Best Comedian in D.C. in the 2013 Washington City Paper Reader’s Poll. Thanks to everyone who voted. I won the fabulous blue widget, suitable for mounting on the right-hand side of the blog, and expectations I can never reach. Winning was a gift and a curse. Sure, it’s great to be validated after nearly 12 years doing stand-up, but I hate using it to promote myself because if it gets mentioned before I go on-stage, I feel like everyone is waiting for me to prove it to them. I like to keep everyone’s expectations super-low, then nimbly step over them. The cool thing about it was that was the first time that category was awarded, so I set the standard low for the next winner. Speaking of which, voting is open for the 2014 Washington City Paper Reader’s Poll, so please to click on the giant orange button on the right-hand side of the blog for all of your voting-for-me needs. Help make me the first two-time winner. I’ll be able to add “coincidental” to my list of potential adjectives. I’m at least as funny as I was last year.

I’m also waiting to hear back about another potential opportunity to beg for votes on a national level. I’m ready to take my pandering to the big time. We’ll see if it pans out. I’m not holding my breath, but I had a positive experience auditioning for a reality TV show. I’m just waiting for them to tell me whether or not I have talent. Stay tuned.

So, my goal is to hopefully put together an entry once a week for as long as either of us can stand it. In the meantime, go ahead and follow me on Twitter @FunnyJared. I’m at about 210 followers, which is okay until I realized that’s only 30 followers on Dog Twitter.

I promise the next installment will be slightly less self-centered. Maybe.